The Colorado Trail ~ Day 5

Long Gulch to Kenosha Pass
Distance: 14 miles
Elevation Gain: 1540 ft

The end is near (Just not near enough)

Last stage. I can do this. Actually, I have to do this; there’s no other way to get home. No cell phone calls begging for rescue today; the only way out is to finish what I started and walk to Kenosha Pass. It shouldn’t be too big a deal though. I slept unusually well and even though breakfast and striking camp took longer than I’d hoped, I’m shouldering my pack and back on the trail by 8:15.

And there isn’t too much elevation gain today. And it’s only 14 miles. Only 14 miles. Ah, but you forget you’re almost 45 years old my lad, and no matter how much you try, your body just doesn’t work as efficiently as it did back in your hardcore hiking days all those years ago.

And yesterday really took its toll. I’m tired, and sore and aching and driven almost insane by the rash of mosquito bites that cover my arms, and legs and face. The Jungle Juice I’d slathered on at regular intervals never held the little buggers at bay for long and while eating breakfast, several of them feasted on a section I must have missed, up by the hairline. My forehead swelled so badly I got the impression this must be what Botox feels like.

So I was more than a little cranky as I began the first climb of the day, out of the canyon in which I’d slept and only got more so as I discovered just how tough that turned out to be. It looked like another long day after all.

The scenery was beautiful, the scenery was beautiful. I have to keep reminding myself that the scenery was beautiful. Years from now, when I look back on this trip I hope that what I remember is the beautiful scenery and not the endless physical pain of putting one foot in front of the other. Because Colorado truly is beautiful and on these glorious summer days, with blue skies above and the wildflowers in full bloom at my feet, I’m seeing it at its best.

But oh, it’s hard to appreciate that, even on the long downhill portion. My shoulders are rubbed raw, my back, never my most trustworthy body part, is beginning to spasm again and my legs are running on empty.

But, I still had the fortitude to rag on a father and son hiking the other way when I noticed the youth was wearing an Arsenal Soccer T-shirt. I pointed out that I was carrying a large stick and held the high ground and cared not one whit that I was obviously making him nervous. The father hastily explained that this was a youth soccer team from Fort Collins, not the scum of the English leagues and with a smile, I let them pass. I suspect though, they’ll both have nightmares about this wild eyed maniac who came out of the hills and threatened them just like the infamous soccer hooligans of which they’d read.

Johnson Gulch: The bottom of the last hill of the trail. Here I met the two young through hikers I’d last seen asleep on the trail of Segment 2. “Man, that really kicked our asses” they told me. “We almost quit that day.” Yep, I knew where they were coming from and gave thanks once more, that I’d had the luxury of being able to bail and run for home that day. Lunch now and a sit down before beginning the climb. Only 3 miles and a mere 900 feet elevation gain. How hard could it be?

Very hard of course. And…it…took…for…ever. Up and up this endless incline as the temperatures got higher, my bag got heavier, my body got weaker. I’d passed numerous creeks in the morning and deliberately allowed my water supply to get low to lighten the load. What I didn’t realize was; Johnson Gulch, the halfway point, would be the last water of the day and now I was forced to ration my intake. No fun when every breath is a ragged, heaving gasp of hot, dry mountain air.

Eventually I began to meet mountain bikers coming the other way. “I’ll swap you my pack for your bike” I suggested to each but none took me seriously. I was still trying this ruse when the highway hove into sight. Every few hundred yards I had a clear view of the RVs, cars and trucks heading out for the weekend but to my frustration, it never seemed to get any closer. It turned out to be simply a mirage, a torment. The trail was running more or less parallel to it and it was another 2 miles before I began walking towards it again.

And then, and then, and then there’s the gate leading to the campsite and journey’s end. Every single muscle in my body hurts, even the ones I didn’t know existed. But despite that, I found the ones in my face involuntarily lifting themselves into a smile.

I’d made it.

I sat in the shade of the pines, leaning against my pack, and barely moved for an hour until Dear Wife showed up with the dogs in the car, and a cooler full of cold drinks and fresh food.

68 miles in 5 days. Doesn’t really sound all that much written here. But starting at 5,520 feet above sea level, finishing at 10,000, and with an accumulated elevation gain of 10,260 feet, (that’s almost 2 miles, if you’re counting) I can tell you, it’s one hell of a hike.

But there’s less than 400 miles to go. And how hard can that be?

This is going to be a piece of cake.